Forever Mine
by Lady Sindrak
Summary: The Jedi learn the reason for Grievous' sorrow and why he hates all of them and the Republic. After stealing something of extreme value to the General, he sets out to reclaim what is rightfully his, only to find more than he expected, and he's okay with that. Dooku, however, isn't. Has one OC, but plays a minor role. Mixed canon, headcanon, and fanon.
1. Chapter 1

Had he mentioned lately how much he absolutely, with every fiber of his being, HATED Jedi? No? Oh, well, allow Grievous to remedy that right now. He hated, HATED, Jedi.

Evidently, the Jedi Council had seen his exhaustively long stay in the outer rim as an invitation to ransack his home on Vessek. If the still smoldering remains of his magnaguards were anything to go by, he guessed they all left not two hours ago. The General growled internally as he stepped over robotic bodies and debris from walls-entire walls!-that the Jedi apparently blasted through, without even minding the doors. They didn't even have the common decency to clean up after their uninvited stay.

He thoroughly searched every nook and cranny of his mountainside palace, compiling a mental list of things that needed to be fixed or replaced. He was surprised he wasn't as furious about it as he probably should be. What were they even looking for? He didn't own much that wasn't related to a lightsaber or cape. He made his way to the control room, finding a grouchy Doctor locked in an unused storage room.

"Thank the Maker you're here, Master!" The medical droid exclaimed, haphazardly swinging his several arms about in a dramatic fashion. "Those Jedi are brutes, you would not believe what they did to me!"

The cyborg tuned A-4D out, instead he crossed the big cylindrical room that was Doctor's "operating room" and sat in his chair-which was once again sliced in half. He'd never grown fully accustomed to typing on a keyboard, his people never truly had the most advanced technology in the galaxy. They'd always just write everything on animal hide or carved stones. He was a slow typer, having to watch his claws one by one as they tapped a key, pulling up camera recordings from earlier in the day during his absence.

He sat back, witnessing the chaos that had occurred without his jurisdiction. The distinctive form of Obi Wan appeared on the screen, following the Nautolan, Kit Fisto, and a horde of troopers marched behind them as they cut through his guards like they were simple minded B1s instead of the highly intellectual droids he's had custom made. They needed a tune up, it appeared. Around the corner, to his surprise, Skywalker appeared with another platoon of clones. He must have come from the south entrance, Grievous thought, never removing his gaze from the screens, effectively ignoring his drama queen of a medical droid.

The Jedi had apparently deactivated a number of the cameras, and many that still did work didn't transmit sound. They talked for a minute, then all ran down a longer, wider hallway that lead to a a ramp that spiraled upwards to the second floor. Grievous leant forwards in his chair, eyes a little wide, concerned. They were headed towards his quarters.

The camera that had picked it all up was situated at the very beginning of the hall over the doorway and that was the very last camera in that part of the castle. He started to feel an inkling of panic he watched his enemies ascend the ramp at a sprint and didn't come back down for quite a while. When they did finally come back down, Kit had something tucked under his arm and they were running, as if their lives depended on it.

He bolted out of the chair, leaping over the back and rushed out of the room, knocking over Doctor in the process. He knew these halls by heart, having lived here for so long. He had to thank the Jedi for blowing holes in the walls just this once, it made getting there easier. Adreniline fueling his mad dash, he charged towards the ramp and climbed up the railing instead of simply walking.

He scowled at the state of his quarters when he arrived: it was an absolute mess. It had little furniture, not that he needed much anyway. There was a massive bed in the very center pushed against the back wall, something he didn't use very often. Weapons from his home world were held in cases and preserved behind glass on the left wall, and on the right was a wall-length closet that held his many capes and cloaks.

Well, that was its purpose. His capes currently were strewn about the room as if they'd been thrown across the room, They probably had, to be honest. He stepped over some and picked up a few, setting them down on his bed. he looked at the mostly empty closet and prayed they hadn't seen it. He knew now qhy they had been here, and hoped they hadn't found their prize. If he could've swallowed, he would have as he reached to wards the back of the closet, running his claws over a hidden shelf, and found it bare.

With a distress noise, he felt a furious roar build in his chest. It tore its way out, informing the galaxy of his anger and absolute sorrow.

His shoulders shook as he tried to contain himself. No, this was not the time nor the place to rampage. No, he'd save that for the thieves who stole his property. That was his! It was hers... He would not stand for this. He whipped around, formulating the most painful ways he could tear apart a Jedi with his bare hands in his rage clouded mind.

They would learn why his name was Grievous.

* * *

**Hello! I'd first like to say thanks to anyone who's given this story a chance! :D **

**If you don't know a whole lot about Grievous' history, this may become confusing, but that's all right because I'll try and explain things as I go. This is a sort of history exploration with the General and just him as a whole. He's my favorite Star Wars character and I feel like we've all forgotten and neglected him, so I'm here to help fix that. X3 **

**Drop a review, if you please, I'd love to know what you think of the idea! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

Theft was frowned upon within the Jedi Order. Kit Fisto and Obi Wan weren't at all proud of their actions just a few standard hours ago. Obi  
Wan had felt guilty during the entire mission but couldn't afford to let his regret get in the way of his objective. He was a Jedi Master, after all. A Jedi Master who had fought and escaped the menacing cyborg more than once, almost always unscathed. He specifically had been chosen to accompany Master Fisto because of his combat knowledge against Grievous, just in case he'd decided to return early while they were still there. Kit had traversed the dark halls of Grievous' mountainside palace, so his own knowledge of the castle was needed-however little of the castle he'd actually seen. The human wasn't sure how his fellow Master felt regarding their mission, but he knew stealing didn't sit right with Kit either.

It was all for a higher purpose, he would remind himself. Over the span of the Clone Wars, ever since Grievous had revealed himself on the industrial world of Hypori, the Republic had been trying to research the fearsome general. Count Dooku was notorious for unleashing his wildcards when the Jedi are least expecting it. Needless to say, the Jedi Council wanted to know everything they could about the Separatist's new Jedi hunter. After years and countless encounters, risking the lives of hundreds of intelligence operatives and spies, they'd only just managed to piece together who Grievous really was. It turned out to be a long, bloody plan, leading many to death during their missions. Recently, Grievous' species had been discovered by two courageous spies. Voluntarily, they'd gone to Geonosis-rumored to be where the cyborg had been manufactured-and stole as many files on the general as possible. One had died and lost half of the information, but their partner managed to escape and deliver.

There really wasn't much: his species and a few structural schematics of his limbs, but that was really all there was to it. Nevertheless, the Republic used what they could and began to study the Kaleesh-Greivous' people. The Kaleesh inhabited a jungle world far out in a remote corner of the galaxy. A tribal race, fiercely loyal to their heritage and religion. Apparently they practiced polygamy and formed large, closely bonded families and lived in massive pyramidal villages, lead by a single chief and his lineage. Evidently, the planet of Kalee and its people weren't doing well. As they understood it, something had happened that led the Kaleesh to famine and poverty. Very slowly, the Kaleesh were slowly recovering with Separatist aid. This made many wonder just why the Separatists would even support the tribal world when they really didn't have much to offer other than an enormous population. The Jedi believed it had everything to do with General Grievous.

Thus, with piqued curiosity, more research was conducted, and finally a new plan was formulated to knock the Confederacy down a few pegs. It'd taken months to uncover the truth about Grievous' sudden appearance in the Clone Wars, and now, with Obi Wan and Kit Fisto's successful return, their final plan could begin.

* * *

The general paced in a blind rage back and forth, his chest heaving with every angry breath that tore through his ragged throat. Nervously, the organic staff present in the Invisible Hand's bridge sat in tense silence, the only sound their boss' agitated breathing and the terrifying clack-scrape of sharpened talons on the metal floor. Occasionally, a hacking cough would follow the heavy breaths, making the living crew anxiously glance at the general, fearful he would lash out at any one of them. Grievous, meanwhile, was far too busy cursing Dooku's very being. His mind had been fogged over and torn between intense rage and crushing depression. He pressed his skeletal palm to his chest plating in an attempt calm himself, blinking in his sudden lightheadedness away. Hyperventilating wouldn't accomplish anything besides knocking him out, and the infamous General Grievous did not just pass out.

He swiveled his head to look out the viewports, glaring into the dotted void of space. His fists clenched. The Jedi were out there, far away, safely tucked in their precious temple, doing Gods knows what to his property. It infuriated him to know he had the power and ability to reclaim what was his, but the Count held him back, effectively leashing him here to mourn and fume. He didn't stay willingly. Or maybe he did. He was afraid of both the inevitable punishment that would be issued if he disobeyed and the horrible scenarios that his tortured mind conjured. He wasn't sure which he was more fearful of.

A cough tore through his vocabulator and Grievous hunched over to endure the stabbing pain. Stressing like this wasn't good for his fragile health. He'd been so worked up after his panic attack not a day ago he found himself hacking more than breathing. It was of little concern to him, though. That was for his doctor to worry about, he had more pressing matters to attend to. He weighed his options carefully, using that strategic brain the Separatists relied on so much. Perhaps, if he left immediately and returned within a few standard hours, Count Dooku wouldn't notice his sudden absence, which would save him from a physically painful lecture. He hadn't the foggiest what he'd do when he got to Coruscant, however.

A loud, feral growl escaped him, making his crew flinch. He was stuck for the time being. He had no map of the Jedi Temple-he wasn't even sure if they'd taken it to the Temple. He had no idea where it could be, what they did with it. Grievous hunched further into himself, his anger temporarily subsided. In its place sorrow squeezed his chest cavity like an icy vice. The Jedi would have to make a move first. He had no leads, no information, no clue where to look. He let out a shaky exhale, gazing out into the void.

What was he supposed to do...?

* * *

**BLARGH this felt so cheesey... I know a lot of you (if you've been reading it) were hoping for an update for The Smallest of Sounds, but I've kind of got writer's block, and recently I've become more inspired to write for Star Wars so...**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, hope ya' liked my cheesey writing. XP Review if ya' like, see ya' next chap! :D**


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